


starving til i tasted you

by eururong



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, M/M, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eururong/pseuds/eururong
Summary: Jongin works hard, and Chanyeol wants to cherish him.





	starving til i tasted you

**Author's Note:**

> i felt like writing something quick and dirty because i've just been chugging along with stupid longfics and chankai foot fetish was suggested because.... YOU KNOW. chanyeol exposed himself as a dirty foot lover. but this is a lot softer than i intended? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> unbeta'd and unedited, sorry
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> do not repost anywhere! (yes, i'm talking to you @sadpcy_, @ncity127)

Chanyeol’s surprised to see Jongin perched on the edge of the bathtub when he strolls into the bathroom, towel slung over his shoulder. After all, Jongin’s not meant to be home for more than an hour and a half. The surprised gasp that comes from Chanyeol is enough to make Jongin turn and look at him, a tired smile tugging at his lips but it’s not enough to reach his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to be home.”

Jongin sighs and turns away, shoulders tense. “Finished practice a bit early.”

Chanyeol takes a step into the bathroom and leans against the wall, trying to keep his voice gentle when he asks, “You finished early, or... you got sent home early?”

The silence from Jongin is answer enough. Now that he’s taken a step into the bathroom, Chanyeol can smell the lavender Epsom salt, can hear the quiet sloshing of the bucket of water Jongin’s resting his feet in. 

Jongin is practically radiating a black cloud of negative energy. Chanyeol knows that most of the tension in Jongin’s shoulders is from exhaustion, but he’s also known Jongin long enough to understand there’s raw self-condemnation just simmering beneath the surface, waiting to burst free. Chanyeol moves until he’s standing behind Jongin and places his hands on top of Jongin’s head, fingers massaging into his scalp lightly. Slowly, Jongin leans back until his back is resting against Chanyeol’s thighs, humming lowly. 

“I’ll massage your feet,” Chanyeol offers, not missing the way that Jongin has started to sniffle a bit, “Come back to my room.”

Chanyeol’s shower can wait. On the way to Chanyeol’s room, Jongin limps slightly, his feet tender and ankles swollen. They tumble gracelessly onto Chanyeol’s bed, with Jongin’s head on the pillow and his feet propped in Chanyeol’s lap. Grabbing the lotion from his dresser, Chanyeol slicks up his hands and starts in on Jongin’s feet. His thumbs press into the ball of Jongin’s foot, kneading across and down through the arch. 

At first, the massage seems to pain Jongin more than soothe him -- he jumps and whines at the slightest movement of Chanyeols hand, his face pulled into a tight grimace. 

“Sorry,” Chanyeol whispers, pulling his hands back with uncertainty. It's not the first time he's massaged Jongin's feet, but it's the first time it's garnered such a pained reaction from him. He doesn't know if he's hurting more than he's helping. 

“No, Chanyeol hyung, please don't stop,” Jongin whimpers, “It hurts but like, in a good way.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol concedes, his fingers going back to work. Jongin doesn’t look as pained now, face and body relaxed, eyes tight and mouth slack with pleasure. The tiniest little noises escape from him when Chanyeol starts to work on his toes, twisting and pulling gently. 

“Don't forget the other one,” Jongin laughs, and yes, Chanyeol's been at this one for quite a while. With an embarrassed chuckle, Chanyeol lifts Jongin's foot until he can bend down to place a soft kiss against the inside of Jongin's ankle. It's not until he hears Jongins soft inhale that he even thinks about what just happened. 

Jongin's cheeks are flushed just the slightest shade of pink, plush lower lip caught between his teeth. He clears his throat before saying, “Well? Do I need to do it myself?” 

“N-No,” Chanyeol stammers, hurrying to coat his hands with lotion, taking Jongin's foot and digging the pads of his thumbs into it gently. Just like the other, Jongin's pain fades to pleasure slowly, but this time his eyes are remarkably dark on Chanyeol, causing his ears to redden and throat to dry. 

Chanyeol doesn't know why, but for some reason, he's delaying ending the massage. He plays with Jongin's toes, lacing his fingers between the gaps and flexing them, wiggling them this way and that, leaving Jongin giggling and looking blissed out. 

Jongin looks up at Chanyeol with an expression part sultry, part nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Don’t be unfair.”

“What?”

Voice quieter now, blush pronounced, Jongin whispers, “You have to kiss this one too.”

Hands shaking, Chanyeol bends down to press his lips to Jongin’s ankle. Chanyeol has no idea what he’s doing, but there’s a hot flame settling in the pit of his stomach that spurs him on. He lets his lips trail from Jongin’s ankle to the top of his foot, placing another gentle kiss there. At the quiet moan that Jongin lets out, Chanyeol’s whole body jerks.

“Hyung,” Jongin whimpers, hands now twisted in the fabric of his shirt, “ _Chanyeol-hyung._ ”

He should stop and ask -- make sure that Jongin’s okay with this, wants this the sudden way that Chanyeol does. But Chanyeol’s heart is racing, mind whirling, and the only thing he can think of is _more_. It’s strange because he’s never considered of Jongin’s feet like this, but why hasn’t he? Perfectly proportioned like the rest of him, callused but soft, hardworking and worthy of praise. That’s what Chanyeol wants to do -- wants to praise, adore, pay tribute to Jongin and how hard he works. 

Breath caught in his throat, Chanyeol kisses the arch of Jongin’s foot before he lets his tongue dart out and trace Jongin’s skin until it finds its way to the space between Jongin’s first and second toes. Jongin jumps, muffling a soft cry with a hand pressed against his mouth.

The sudden desire to be closer to Jongin floods through Chanyeol. He pushes at Jongin’s knees until his legs are pressed close to his chest, and Chanyeol can kneel closer, knees pressed against the curve of Jongin’s ass. One of Jongin’s hands covers his crotch self-consciously, and it’s then that Chanyeol realizes that he’s hard. 

It causes him to shudder, the sudden awareness that Jongin wants this too, and Chanyeol pulls Jongin’s big toe into his mouth, laves it with his tongue and lets his teeth gently scrape against the bottom. Jongin moans, stuttered and faltering, reaching out with one hand to grip at Chanyeol’s waist, arm, shoulder. 

There’s sweat starting to bead on the back of Chanyeol’s neck, and there’s a similar sheen across Jongin’s reddened face. Chanyeol takes Jongin’s three smallest toes into his mouth and revels in the way Jongin’s back arches, the way he bites down on his lip and looks up at Chanyeol with hazy eyes.

“Chanyeol-hyung,” Jongin whimpers.

Chanyeol lets Jongin’s toes fall from his mouth, shiny and wet with saliva, pressing both of Jongin’s feet to rest against his chest. The way Jongin’s cock strains against his sweatpants is hard to hide, despite the hand Jongin has pressed against his arousal. Chanyeol knew from the beginning that this was something that strangely, _oddly_ turned him on, but seeing Jongin’s want has his cock twitching in his pants. 

“Hyung,” Jongin’s voice is hoarse, his palm moving in tight circles against his cock, “Hyung, I -- I… please.”

“Go on, Jongin,” Chanyeol groans, hoping he understands that he wants Jongin to touch himself, wants him to feel good. Chanyeol pulls Jongin’s neglected foot to his mouth and licks, sucks, bites at his toes, the arch, the heel, letting out a choked moan when he sees Jongin’s hand slip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants to properly circle around his cock. 

They’re both desperate then, Chanyeol’s mouth moving against Jongin’s foot as if he was a man starved, Jongin’s hand moving faster and faster over himself. 

“Oh, oh,” Jongin mewls brokenly, “Fuck --”

Chanyeol groans as he watches Jongin twitch and gasp through his orgasm, biting down on the toes he has between his lips. He’s hot, blood thrumming, cock hard and weeping in his pants, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to kiss Jongin. He lets Jongin’s legs fall back to his sides and leans forward, elbows braced on either side of Jongin’s head. 

There’s a heavy moment of uncertainty where they lock gazes. But Chanyeol’s desire is clear, in the way his gaze flicks between Jongin’s eyes and his lips. Even though he had just watched him come apart, kissing Jongin was something else. Chanyeol lets Jongin pull him down for the kiss, fingers in Chanyeol’s hair and tongues tangling together, unconcerned about where Chanyeol’s mouth has been. 

Chanyeol’s so hard, so painfully hard that he can’t help but selfishly rut against Jongin’s oversensitive cock. Jongin sobs and pushes Chanyeol away. An apology forms on Chanyeol’s lips until he feels the balls of Jongin’s feet press against his cock, moving in tandem up and down the shaft. 

“Oh shit,” Chanyeol gasps, overwhelmed by the sight beneath him. Jongin’s feet are nimble as they work at Chanyeol’s cock until he’s teetering on the edge, chest stuttering and eyes slipping out of focus. When he comes, it’s like static fills his body from his scalp to his toes, like the orgasm is pulled from the deepest part of him. 

He falls beside Jongin when he begins to come down, gasping for breath and squirming against the sticky, uncomfortable feeling in his shorts. Jongin’s fingers stroke through Chanyeol’s hair, soothing, and Chanyeol laughs because for some reason he feels like he’s the one who’s supposed to be soothing Jongin. 

“Can I sleep here?” Jongin asks, voice a little timid.

“Yeah, of course,” Chanyeol answers, reaching over their heads for the box of tissues on the table. The awkwardness is unavoidable, Chanyeol assumes, as they each wipe themselves down, considering what just happened. 

But when Chanyeol pulls the blanket over the both of them and lets Jongin curl into him, face pressed into Chanyeol’s neck, the warm feeling in Chanyeol’s chest lets him know that somehow this is right. 

“Good night,” Chanyeol whispers against Jongin’s hair, smiling when he feels Jongin’s lips press a gentle kiss against Chanyeol’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> [my reaction to this whole fic](https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/001/365/753/94c.jpg)
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> find me on twitter: [@moshimoshh](https://twitter.com/moshimoshh)


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